


What’s This ‘Normal’ You Speak Of?

by ladydragon76



Category: Transformers (Bay Movies), Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Fanfiction, Gen, Rating: PG - Freeform, character: annabelle lennox, character: tracks, genre: drama, verse: post rotf, warning: au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 18:08:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Annabelle Lennox's life is... not normal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What’s This ‘Normal’ You Speak Of?

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** Post ROTF  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Characters:** Annabelle Lennox, Tracks (yeah I was surprised too)  
>  **Warnings:** None  
>  **Notes:** A fic prompt!

Annabelle Lennox often wondered what it was like to be ‘normal’. Have a ‘normal’ life, and ‘normal’ friends. Sometimes she found herself envious of her schoolmates. Sure, they were aware, as was the rest of the world, of the intergalactic war and giant alien robots, but they didn’t have one living with them. They didn’t have one as their sworn Guardian and protector, or driving them to class, or hauling their afts home after the last bell without letting them hang out at the mall, or that new, cute little retro soda shop up the block.

Annabelle tossed her book bag into the passenger seat, and buckled the seatbelt.

“Is there something wrong?” Tracks asked. She knew it irritated him when she ‘abused his interior’, but in some ways, she was just more used to Ironhide and his no frou frou attitude. Tracks was vastly different, but with her father and Ironhide on the other side of the planet, she had been deemed high-risk enough to need her very own protector. Annabelle still couldn’t fathom what had possessed Tracks to volunteer for ‘squishy duty’.

“Let’s leave it at teenage angst, and just go home,” Annabelle said, settling her hands on the steering wheel, though unlike Ironhide, Tracks had never let her have control to drive. And she really probably was the best sixteen and a half year old driver in the world. Ironhide had taught her himself with the same drill sergeant of safety regs attitude her dad had used when teaching her how to handle a blaster.

Tracks, however, remained still. “I am your Guardian, Annabelle. If something is troubling you, it is my duty and pleasure to assist.”

Annabelle chewed at her lip, trying to figure out how to word it without sounding as whiny as she did in her own head. “I just… I’m not like the rest of them,” she said, gesturing to the front of the high school where other teens still milled and chatted, and laughed. “I mean, I really do get how much luckier I am in some ways, but…”

“You’re missing out, and they notice,” Tracks finished.

Annabelle blinked in utter surprise. Wow. Ironhide never would have gotten that one. Not on the first try, and he probably wouldn’t have grasped why it bothered her. There was something in his tone that made her believe Tracks did. “Yeah,” she said simply.

“Hm.” Tracks was silent for another moment, then his engine turned over, and he backed out of the parking space. They pulled to a stop in front of a rather sizable group of teens, and Annabelle’s door popped open. “Take your bag if you would.”

Brow arching in curious confusion, Annabelle unbuckled, grabbed her backpack, and stepped out. Tracks let the door close, inched forward, and then transformed.

Startled cries sounded, shouts, a couple girls shrieked, and Annabelle winced right along with Tracks. “Primus, girl!” he said, one hand covering an audial as he sat on the blacktop. He gave his head a quick shake as everyone settled down, seeing he wasn’t about to begin maiming them all.

Annabelle stepped up next to Tracks at his subtle gesture, and leaned against his knee. “Uhh…”

“Now they will understand what sets you apart,” Tracks said, leaning forward and pitching his voice just for Annabelle to hear. No one had quite gotten the nerve to approach them yet. Tracks gave her a smug little smirk too. “And envious, I’d wager.”

Annabelle’s eyebrow arced up again. "Well, I… _suppose_ this might be helpful..."

Shaking off her own surprise, Annabelle straightened, and stepped forward a little. “So, this is Tracks. He’s an Autobot, and my Guardian. He’s really cool, but he’ll totally bitch if you get grubby finger prints on his finish.” She cast a grin up at Tracks in time to see him roll his optics in a perfect imitation of Annabelle’s own ocular three-sixty -her mother’s term. Turning back to the growing crowd of teenagers, and even a few teachers, Annabelle chuckled. “So who wants to say hi?”


End file.
